


and then there was you

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Kissing, Morning Sex, Sex on the Beach, Sexual Content, Talking, daisy's van, mentions of Mackelena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:25:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8058088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: For #byebyehaitus prompts about accidental meetings.  Daisy and Coulson run into each other unexpectedly.





	

The light is on in the corner apartment on the fourth floor.  
It was an old building on the east side, a bank converted into loft apartments.  
The color of the light is important. Since it's just the regular kind, glowing a warm yellow, it means that she has visitors.  
It means that it might be SHIELD.  
She guesses that's what she gets for showing up unexpectedly.  
Elena could've run like she did, and they never would've caught her.  
But she didn't.  
She's proud and doesn't want to hide who she is and what she can do. She had told her, "Let them try to stop me."  
So she got busy organizing, working with Inhuman Rights organizations.  
And saving the world, if it needed saving from time to time.  
Also, there was Mack.

Staring up at the window, she hopes that it's Mack there with her.  
That they're catching up on the things that matter and this is not SHIELD business.  
She smiles and hopes that the world won't need saving tonight.  
That the Ghost will take the night off.  
The sky is unusually dark, and smog-tinted clouds are like shadows.  
It feels like it could rain, even.  
She stuffs her hands back into her pockets, and swivels on the sidewalk, heading back towards the alley.  
Then freezes in place.  
"Daisy?"  
He's standing right there on the sidewalk, staring back at her.  
Her hands come out of her pockets immediately, a defensive gesture.  
Not to hurt him, but he looks at them, like he doesn't know what she'll do.  
"I'm--," he starts, stuttering, raising his hands. "Mack's upstairs. I just wanted to give them some space."

What should she say?  
That you're the reason I left. That I think about you all the time.  
That she's sorry things didn't work out the way they both wanted.  
That she's sorry that she hurt him.

"My mobile base is around the corner."

He looks surprised by that. "Oh."  
"It's probably not good to be seen together on the street like this, right?"  
"Right," he rasps, taking a few steps closer to her.  
She turns and starts to walk toward the alley, wondering what she's getting herself into, almost turning over her shoulder to make sure he's still there.  
But she hears his footsteps after her and keeps on, making one last look around the street before rounding the corner to the alley.  
He comes to stand beside her and puts his hands on his hips, looking over her van, as she takes the keys out.  
"Where did you?"  
"I found the warehouse in the SHIELD database," she says, switching off the alarm. "Tracked her down."  
The automatic door moves open as she clicks the button.  
"Slide on in."  
He gives her a glance that's a mixture of disapproval and approval. He's still probably trying to decide what to make of it.  
"Are you going to start calling me A.C. again?"  
"No," she says, climbing in after him. "I think I'm going to stick with Phil."

##

  
He can't exactly stand up in the van, but he's being polite, waiting for her in a crouch while his eyes wander.  
"You've done some redecorating, I see."  
"Yeah," she nods. "The Watchdogs have paid the way for me to monitor them."  
She sits down in one of the chairs at the station and then gestures for him to do the same.  
Swinging around in the chair, he looks up towards the driver's seat, and then back towards the mattress stacked up on boxes where she sleeps.  
His face has a hint of nostalgia there, of fondness, like he's remembering.  
"It could use some curtains," he smirks. "Brighten it up a bit?"  
She huffs at him and then lowers her eyes when his meet hers directly, and she knows he's about to turn serious.  
"I'm fine, Coulson."  
"I thought you were going with Phil."  
"Phil," she corrects, swinging her chair around until their knees bump.  
"We're here to find out about those two deaths, I'm sure you know about them."  
"What, do you think it was me?" she asks, crossing her arms.  
"Of course not," he replies right away. "But someone saw you. Are you going after this on your own?"  
"Yeah, he kills people."  
"Daisy-"  
"Don't," she starts, standing up again. "I can take care of myself."  
His hand reaches out and takes her wrist, and she freezes again.  
"You shouldn't have to."

This is everything that she's been avoiding.  
But his eyes on her, and his gentle touch, she wants them.  
She wants and she knows that the cost is going to be so high. It always is.  
That despite everything she's done to makes sure it doesn't, he finds her.  
"Why does this keep happening?" she asks him. "How do you keep finding me?"  
"I don't know," he says, like he's just as puzzled as she is. "I'm glad that I did, though."  
"Even after everything I've done," she tells him, shaking her head.  
"I know what you're doing, and why. It's one of the reasons I've wanted to get to you first, before-"  
"SHIELD locks me away?" she finishes. "Is that why you stayed?"  
"It's complicated," he answers, followed by a sigh.  
"It always is."  
She walks back towards the bed and sits on it, starts to take off her boots.  
"What are you doing? " he asks, turning the chair towards her.  
"I live here, Phil," she says, putting a boot down against the floor. "It's been a long day," she goes on. "I was going to see if Elena wanted to talk, have a beer or two."  
"I don't have any beer," he replies, pursing his lips.  
She stares back at him for a long moment, then pats the mattress beside her.  
"Come here."  
He stands up, and just misses bumping his head on the ceiling, and makes the number of steps needed to come sit down beside her.  
He clasps his hands together on his lap and stares at them, until she slides her fingers along his prosthetic.  
"New one? Feels almost like your old one."  
"Yeah, they've really made a leap in the technology since Radcliffe-" he stops himself. "Can we not talk about SHIELD stuff?"  
"Sure."

##

  
It seems really strange that this is how it could happen, but it's kind of fitting, maybe.  
They're talking and her knee is brushing against his again, and she slides off her jacket to show him a scar on her arm from a fight she had when one of the Watchdogs recognized her in a bar.  
He brushes his thumb over it, like he wants an excuse to touch her.  
"Knife?" he asks.  
"Yeah," she nods. "I sewed it up myself."  
"You used to have a whole team of people to do that for you," he says, like it pains him.  
"Yup," she agrees, there were a lot of things easier with a team. "What would you have done?"  
"I would've probably made a joke," he smiles. "Hopefully one that went over his head. And then I would've hit him over the head with a barstool?"  
She chuckles at his amusement at the idea, letting her eyes rove over his face like she's a teenager, and it's so ridiculous, but he catches on and she swears he starts to blush.  
"Like in the old west, or, one of those greaser bar brawls, you know?"  
"Sure," she says. The idea connects, and then suddenly he reaches up and holds the edge of her hair between his fingers.  
"Is this a disguise, or is this-"  
"A little bit of both," she says, holding back a smile. "I'm still me."  
"I know," he says. "Me, too."  
"No more of those fancy suits, though, Agent, " she teases, as he drops his hand to his knee. "What about you? Any new scars?"  
"Not the kind that you can see," he ducks his head but she can see the corner of his mouth turn. "My ego's taken quite a beating, but that's really nothing new."  
"I just didn't want you to get hurt anymore. You know that."  
"I don't think it works that way," he tells her, swallowing, then meets her eyes. "This hurts worse."  
"What is this, even?" she asks, shaking her head.

"I'm in love with you. It's the only thing that makes sense anymore."

It surprises her how easily he admits it.  
He's not her boss anymore. He's not the Director. She's not even in SHIELD.  
He's not even asking her for anything. She can tell by the way he's looking at her.  
She could walk away and never see him again, and he wouldn't try to stop her.  
He would just keep trying to help.  
"Can't you see what happens to people who love me?" she manages to say back, and she can already feel the tears forming.  
"You've saved me so many times, Daisy. In so many ways. I can't imagine what the last few years of my life would have been without you.. I can't think about a future without you in it, in some way."  
At that moment, his phone rings, and he wants to ignore it, but he pulls it out of his pocket and finally answers.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," he says into the phone. "No problem, we can catch up in the morning. Sure. Okay."  
He hangs up and puts the phone back in his pocket.  
"Didn't want to tell him you found the 'target'?" she jokes.  
"Not yet," he replies. "I have to check in," he tells her. "They can track my phone."  
"I can make them lose track of it," she offers, raising an eyebrow.  
"They'll trace the last location," he starts.  
"Luckily, my house has wheels," she mentions."I'll have the coordinates match a hotel."  
"What exactly are you asking?" he manages after a moment of fumbling for something to say.  
"I'm asking you to stay," she replies, as she leans forward and kisses him, lightly on the mouth.  
"Maybe we shouldn't-"  
"And talk," she finishes.  
"Okay."

##

  
It's even less attractive in the morning, even with a sunrise behind it.  
The seaweed washed up along the wet edge of sand and the warning signs in the water with the broken fencing.  
They pulled up in the van last night and she got out the blanket and spread it in her usual spot. They talked all night, with their arms wrapped around each other.  
She squints and looks around them, making sure they're still alone here, and sees her boots sitting on the edge of the blanket, next to his shoes.  
Their feet are still sandy from last night, and his feet are actually the first thing she sees of him before her eyes trace up his body to find him sleeping with his jacket rolled up under his head.  
He'd asked her why she likes it here.  
_"Because it's quiet. And I can watch the tides come in. People don't swim here, it's dangerous."_  
_"You're not dangerous."_  
_"I am. We both know I am."_  
This is the first time she's been able to really look at him up close like this, and his eyes flutter open and see her staring down at him.  
"What time is it?" he asks, reaching for her, with some kind of smile like there's a secret there, and brushes his fingers along her arm.  
"The sun is still coming up," she tells him, and digs into her bag and pulls out a bottle of water. "Want some?"  
She takes a sip and then hands it to him.  
"Coffee sounds good," he says, and sits up with a groan and then sips and hands the bottle back to her.  
"Was that hard on your back?" she says, getting behind him, and feeling for the tight spots, then kneading on them.  
He relaxes into her, with a happy sigh and then turns towards her, and pulls her against him, kissing her.  
When she makes a surprised noise, he stops and checks in with her."Sorry," he tells her. "Was that-"  
"I just didn't think you wanted that, or that you were ready," she says, steadying herself so she won't fall over.  
"I was scared. Last night. That this would just be some kind of fling, or-"  
"No," she stops him, brushing her fingers over his lips as she moves to kiss him, pushing him back down against the blanket by his shoulders and getting her leg over him to get on top.

His breath catches when their bodies make contact and he lifts his head to turn it at an angle, and deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against hers impatiently, as she pulls at the edge of his shirt to try and free it from his jeans.  
"Are you sure?" she asks him, as she sits up, settling over his hips, feeling him already hard against her in his jeans.  
"Yes," he answers, pushing his hips up towards her, and sliding his hands along her jeans.  
She laughs and pulls her shirt off over her head, and watches as he starts to unbutton his shirt, as she's taking off her bra and setting it down next to her top.  
He sits up and slides his shirt away, putting his hands on her bare arms, and along her collarbone, and then cups her breast.  
"Are you sure?" he asks, when she touches his scar, and the peppery-colored hair on his chest.  
She knows what he's asking, but she's never thought of him that way.  As old, or maimed, or whatever is going through his mind.  
"I'm certain," she tells him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, as she kisses him again, softly, just like she had in her van the night before.  
"It's the only thing I'm certain about," she grins.  
They both fumble to try to get their jeans down, and it should be absurd, with them both laughing half-naked on a public beach, desperate to undress.  
But it's the first time in a long time she's felt happy. It's their connection.  
Both impatient to get this started. It's hit them. They both must be thinking they knew this all along.  
When he's inside her and she's rocking her hips against him, he keeps saying her name like he's cheering her on.  
It's about as close to perfect as it's going to get, she thinks.  
The way he's smiling when she comes a few moments later, his fingers helping her to get there, and kisses her forehead until she loses count after he follows her.  
It's over too soon, but it's only the first time. There will be more.  
They've already promised.  
The sun is up now, not that soft, sweet sunlight. Bright light, real and harsh and making them both squint as they lay against each other, still coming down from their highs.  
And she was wrong about this place.  
It's beautiful.


End file.
